The black cars grim in the rain's steady drip,
the determination to carry father to his grave.
My father who hated cold water, downpours
and dreary afternoons without yellow sunlight,
...
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Bernard Henrie I was not sure how to respond to this poem, but then I thought I would respond with honesty. Scintillating, every word is positioned where it shines in its true light. Enthralling.
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Bernard Henrie I was not sure how to respond to this poem, but then I thought I would respond with honesty. Scintillating, every word is positioned where it shines in its true light. Enthralling.